Morrissey - I Am Not a Dog on a Chain Album Lyrics

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Jim Jim Falls

At Jim Jim Falls
I fall in love
At Jim Jim Falls
I fell up from Hell

If you're gonna jump then jump
Don't think about it
If you're gonna run home and cry
Then don't waste my time
If you're gonna kill yourself
Then to save face
Just kill yourself

At Jim Jim Falls
I fooled and fell
If I were you
I'd stick to your own canoe

If you're gonna jump then jump
Don't think about it
If you're gonna run home and cry
Then don't waste my time
If you're gonna kill yourself
Then to save face
Get on with it

If you're gonna sing then sing
Don't think about it
If you're gonna live then live
Don't go on about it
If you're gonna kill yourself
Then for God's sake

If you're gonna sing then sing
Just don't talk about it
If you're gonna live then live
Don't go on about it
If you're gonna kill yourself
Then for God's sake
Just kill yourself

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Love Is On Its Way Out

Love is on its way out
Love is on its way out
Love is tired and it's on its way out
Love is on its way out
Love is on its way out
Love is broken down, it's on its way out

Did you see the headlines?
Did you see the grablines?
Did you see the nerve gassed children crying?
Did you see the sad rich
Hunting down, shooting down elephants and lions?

Love is on its way out
Love is on its way out
Love is tired and it's on its way out
Love is on its way out
Love is on its way out
Love is broken down, it's on its way out

Did you see the sad rich
Hunting down, shooting down elephants and lions?

But before it goes
Before it goes
Before it goes
Do you have the time to show me
What's it like
What's it like
Oh, what's it like
Oh take time
Be mine
And gaze with fondness on the wrong one
The wrong one
Oh
The wrong one
The wrong one
Oh
The wrong one

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Bobby, Don't You Think They Know?

Ice snow, spikes blow
Bobby don't you think they know?
Oh, Bobby don't you think they know?

Aren't you tired of pretending?
I know, you're tortured below
Aren't you tired of pretending?
I know, you're tortured down below

Scag shack, Mexican mud
Little Jo in the snow
Bobby don't you think they know?
Oh, Bobby don't you think they know?

Aren't you tired of pretending?
I know, you're tortured below

But, ah the pleasure you bring for us
Ah whenever you sing for us
Ah the pleasure you bring for us
Ah whenever you sing for us

Eighth track (oh yeah), A-bomb (come on now)
White mosquito, of course they know
You ain't fooling nobody (yeah)
Snow king, toot-and-horse
Then something worse
Bobby, don't you think they know?
Don't you think they know, Bobby?
Oh, Bobby don't you think they know?

But, ah the pleasure you bring for us
Ah whenever you sing for us
Ah the pleasure you bring for us
Ah whenever you sing for us

Everybody knows
You ain't fooling nobody

Lord have mercy for the man

Ice snow, spikes blow
Oh, Bobby don't you think they know?
Oh, don't you think they know

Scag shack, Mexican mud
Little Jo in the snow
Bobby don't you think they know?
Oh, of course they know

You can't hide it
Bobby

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I Am Not a Dog on a Chain

I am not a dog on a chain, I use my own brain
I can turn the conversation off, I'm too clever to be robbed
I am not a dog on a chain, thanks all the same
I have patience and I have time, both of which are mine

I hear a call, I hear a cry
I raise my voice, I have no choice
I raise my hand, I hammer twice
I see no point in being nice

I am not a dog on a chain, I use my own brain
I do not read newspapers, they are troublemakers
Listen out for what's not shown to you and there you find the truth
For in a civilized and careful way they'll sculpture all your views

So open up your nervous mouth and feel the words come streaming out
In volume, pitch and rising cries, opening your blinkered eyes
For otherwise you'll never know who you are or all that you can do
If you want to, if you want to, if you want to

I am not a dog on a chain, you've got to be insane
One is company and two is a crowd, and crowds are loud

Or maybe I'll be skinned alive by Canada Goose because of my views
Because of the truth, because of my fleece, because of my niece
Like drinking ink, the words explode, fattening fists, louder than blows
The dead are dead, ice cold and hard to where they can't be overcharged
They have no breath, they have no eyes, at least they won't be going twice

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What Kind of People Live in These Houses?

What kind of people live in these houses?
What kind of sad dad
Scratches in this crash-pad?
T-shirts or blouses?
Torn jeans or trousers?
What kind of people live in these houses?
T-shirts or blouses?
Torn jeans or proper trousers?
They vote the way they vote
They don't know how to change
Because their parents did the same

And where will they be
Ten years from today?
Bed-sitter, bed-wetter?
Or penthouse go-getter?
What carpet-chewer
Lights up this sewer?
And which rough trade strangers
Flail around these chambers?
And what dented gent
Bends over in this tent?

They sleep with who they sleep with
Only because they are afraid to taste change

And where will they be
Ten years from today?
Dogface in a duplex?
Boisterous in cloisters?
Grabbing in a cabin
Or squatting on your quarters, oh
Sat home and folksy
Smelling in their dwelling
They look at television thinking it's their window to the world
They look at television thinking it's their window to the world
That's got to hurt
Who cares what people live in these houses?

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Knockabout World

Congratulations
You have survived
Congratulations
You're still alive
They kicked to kill you
Do not forget
They tried to turn you
Into a public target

Welcome to this knockabout world
This knockabout world
This knockabout world
This knockabout world

Congratulations
You're still okay
I'd kiss your lips off
Any day

Be careful in this knockabout world
This knockabout world
This knockabout world
This knockabout world

And by the way
You're okay by me
You're okay by me
With your handsome teeth
You're okay by me

You're okay by me
(This knockabout world)
You're okay by me
(This knockabout world)
You're okay by me
You're okay by me

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Darling, I Hug a Pillow

Darling, I hug a pillow in absence of you

Darling, I hug a pillow to replace your face
Loving you is a trauma no one else should face
Or sit still for

Why can't you give me some physical love?
Why can't you give me some physical love?
Everything else is in place, except physical love

Darling, you will cry for me in the years to come
In the hope of a moment that cannot return
Thankfully

Why can't you bring figs all pulpy and moist?
Roasted in passion and salty in voice?
No longer keeping a secret of your secret place

Why can't you give me some physical love?
Why can't you give me some physical love?
Everything else is in place, except physical love

Darling, I hug a pillow in absence of you
Darling, I hug a pillow to replace your face
Darling, I hug a pillow to replace your face

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Once I Saw the River Clean

Once I saw the river clean
Distant future, wait for me
I grow pleasing to the eye
And the cue will cue for me

Once I saw the river clean
Soon the clock will strike for me
Childish mind anticipates
Grown-up mind consummates

I walked with my grandmother
Down a windblown Chester Road
With her fifty-two new pence
For her twenty number-tens

And my forty-five pence too
Demand metal guru
Once with hearts securely stacked
Then we walked all the way back

I walked with my grandmother
Along the groan of Talbot Road
In the gardens by the graves
I can just about behave

Arrogant and paranoid
All around, see fathead youth
Look into their brutal eyes
But only if you want the truth

Once I saw the river clean
Scratching up the latest scheme
Time will come but it hasn't yet
Someone's out to get me

I walked with my grandmother
Cornbread street, we're incomplete
She would never be again
A Dublin dancer, free and young

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The Truth About Ruth

I am a sleuth, I dig up the truth
I ferret the facts, even when there are none
A silent child, an elegant youth
This led me to find the truth about Ruth

Ruth is John
Ruth is John
We all do what we can
Just to get along

The life you lead, straightforward and bland
Everything happens according to plan
But some people fight just to take root
In a world ill-equipped for the truth about Ruth

Ruth is John
Ruth is John
We all do what we can
Just to get along

Oh, bully for you, oh, bully for you
Your groin and your face, they slip right into place
So masoned and carved, your arrow is drawn
You know who you are, yet you have no idea

Ruth is John
Ruth is John
And sooner or later
We are all calmed down

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The Secret of Music

I am out of tune
Violin, the state I'm in
I've lived through many Junes
I am out of tune
The center hole is overgrown
I'm listening face down
Birds sound around
Like a sudden spell or bell
Or orchestrated swells
I am out of tune
Play the flute
For love or loot
That's really up to you
How it clings
Like pinging strings of mandolins
That pluck to your good luck
No trombone
Or glockenspiel could ever feel
The way I feel tonight

Bum, bum, bum, the drum
Cymbals symbolize your mind
I think that you should try
Classical guitar
Love anew, oh yes, you are
Pan pipes save a life
No angelic flute
Can F hold
A harping soul?
Each song ends with a gong

Fat bassoon
Clear as the moon
But nothing now can take away my gloom
Triangle
Fiddle Stradivarius
I'd like to cause a fess

Boo, boo

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My Hurling Days Are Done

Time will mold you and craft you
But soon, when you're looking away
It will slide up and shaft you
Oh, time
Oh, time
No friend of mine

Mama, mama and teddy bear
Were the first full firm spectrum of time
Now my hurling days are done
And there's no one to tell and there's nowhere to run

Time, a blossoming clover
But soon it will say, "Okay, come on son, bend over"
Oh, time
Oh, time
No friend of mine

Oh mama, mama and teddy bear
Were the first full firm spectrum of time
But now my hurling days are done
And there's no one to tell and there's nowhere to run

Time places no pressure on you
But soon it explains what it means by the Funky Alfonso
Oh, time
Oh, time
No friend of mine

Oh mama, mama and teddy bear
Were the first full firm spectrum of time
But now my hurling days are done
And there is no one to tell and there's nowhere to run

Time will send you an invoice
And you pay with your strength and your legs and your sight and your voice

Oh mama, mama and teddy bear
Were the first full firm spectrum of time
But now my hurling days are done
And there is no one to tell and there's nowhere to run